Duel:Jack v Silex (DD)
- Judges: Aranhil, Rheven(mid), Terra
- Winner: Jack
Arena(Larket)
The arena seems to be as it always was. The fighting sport of gladiators has not grown old with the people of Larket. In the many bleachers, various townsfolk sit and watch as the two gladiators in the arena fight on. One of them is fighting with a sword, while the other has a spear and shield. You watch for a moment as the two battle each other, only to end in a gory spectacle of blood. The winner lifts up the head of the defeated as the crowd cheers and roars. Some of the men toss gold in the arena as prize, while a small number of women throw flowers. With the match over, you decide to end your stay as well.
Silex enters the Larket arena, his deep auburn eyes catching sight of the other human arriving to begin this bestial foray. Knuckles crack, the bones within strained and pressurized as right handed fingers grip tighter upon the obsidian staff chosen for such an occasion by the terramancer. "Two," is all that is mumbled from the cracked, withered lips of the human hunter as the crimson hood upon his head falls carelessly upon his shoulders, pushed to such a resting place by the man's left hand. Suddenly, the mage thrusts the blackened oak item into the air as the usually solid ground begins to tremor. Ripples begin to form within the earthen layer at the feet of the terramancer, quickly spreading to the rest of the arena. Footing, it seems, would be a difficult task as the waves begin to grow with each fleeting moment. To make matters much dire and deadly, large spikes of solid rock begin piercing through the soft dirt like a gigantic mace striking from the underworld. Random at best are these craggy nails, though a pattern soon emerges out of the chaos as the barbed stones begin to perforate the earth all about Jack, leaving only his solitary piece of wavering earth alone at first glance. That solace, however, is abruptly broken as Lithrydel begins to lunge at the assassin, hoping to skewer the purist's foe and end this charade promptly.
Jack made his way into the arena, his deep pools running this way and that, taking in the details of the area, and at last coming to rest upon the man before him. Detest was all Jack would hold for him. Pity, perhaps was not far off either. He took a few steadying breaths, his hands raising to pull the hood which rested atop his cranium, the digits finding ample grip to remove and allow crimson locks to fall about his face. Jack would not regret this eve, as the man before him would fall motionless by its end, his blood left to run upon the ground. Crimson would rain from the sky. A smirk would come at last, his right hand falling to the hilt of his Scimitar. Suddenly, and without warning, the earth would begin to tremble, and a grimace would come to play. Terramancy, Jack would guess. His stance widening to accommodate the shifting and shaking. How disgraceful, the man holds no honor. No bow, and no word of luck offered. The ground would begin to settle, Jack finding himself on a solitary pedestal amidst pillar-like spikes. Foolish as it were, Silex advances. A small flex of his muscles, and the release of the sinew propels him forward, his keen sense of balance amongst other things pushing him forward. He would jump from pillar to pillar, making his way out of the mess of earth and rock and towards his foe. He had not unsheathed his weapon as of yet, but with his last jump, his right would deftly pull it free--the tell-tell sound of metal releasing its cry left to permeate the air about in the seeming silence left to ensue. It was a simple strike, though effective. The scimitar was brought down, held only in his right hand, digits firmly affixed to, in a vertical arch upon the man. His left hand, however, rested upon the hilt of his Katana, ready to strike or block with it should it come to need.
Silex watches the wondrous display of extreme agility with intense scrutiny, waiting for the adroit and nimble assassin to make his move. It comes with the swiftness of a tiger, the deadly steel whistling through the air and desiring to taste the liquid housed within the terramancer's flesh. Silex, however, has not been idle during this process as the black oaken staff has been lifted a few inches off of the rumbling ground. A sudden tap from the butt end of the device brings forth the defense of the human, a fork like pillar similar to the others that lambast this arena with their malicious intent. Ducking to ensure that his craggy shield is used, the blade is stopped in mid flight as it clangs against the valley of the ever growing stalagmite. Hastily, the mage begins to weave in and out of the madness of his own design, taken extra precautions to ensure that he does not become impaled upon a random rock spear. Finding a safe haven for the time being, the terramancer turns to face the area where he once resided, a flourish of archaic syllables now singing a delicately woven song into the air. Instantly, the ground now underneath the assassin's position turns to quicksand, the large stones succumbing to the sudden loss of earthen texture and sucked into the murky pool. The spell grows, ever widening as the ground wishes to feast, stopping at the tips of Silex's toes though expanding from arena wall to arena wall. To add to the discord, a familiar "tap-tap" of the human's staff is placed upon the ground, rocky debris lifting from this battle's floor and sent hurtling at Jack, hoping to either slow him down so the pool of muck can devour him or tear apart his flesh as pack of termites do to wood.
Jack would allow a smile to remain upon his face, his facade rather calm despite the apparent terror about. His Scimitar had burried itself into the earth risen as Silex's shield, and Jack would use his left to find grasp upon the rocks surface. Chestnut orbs would watch the mage, his danty frame scurrying off into the protection of his own creation. The sudden shift of the rock he clung to, and the changing of the earth beneath was his que, and the flung debris the proof. ith a heave, his right arm would pull free his Scimitar, his left relinquishing its grasp upon the rocky surface, and his two powerful legs lending him aid yet again. The momentum from pulling the blade free, coupled with the downward kick on the vertical wall surface would send Jack into an acrobatic back-flip. This almost save him from harm entirely. Almost. A few of the debris would find and make contact, one slashing across his left arm, while another his left side. Pain would sting at him, but it was a simple matter to push it aside--practice in such events evident. Gracefully as possible, he would twist, landing upon his feet--using the upturned rocks and pillars sprouted by the mage earlier as his landing. Nimble steps and leaps would push him forward. It was quite obvious for him. Get close to the caster, no more worries. Quicksand would not matter, nor wold he have to worry about spikes impaling him from below. It was a mad dash, leaping here and there, a close call almost dropping Jack to his death a few times. He would reach Silex, though, or get close enough that it didn't matter. A simple leap was made, Jack tossing his Scimitar skyward, allowing it to idly and gently flip midair for a few moments as it ascended and then began to descend. His hands would quickly find the two daggers about his waist--twins as it were--and release them in a quick flick of his wrist. Zooming, they appeared to be heading straight towards Silex, the relatively small distance limiting him from summoning an ample defense of earth in time, or at least the probability of doing so. His scimitar would then be caught in hand, his left pulling free his katana. The former would be brought down in a vertical strike, and the latter in a horizontal slash as it was unsheathed. Jack aimed to land where the mage was standing. Surly he would be forced to move lest he wished to meet either of the two daggers, or the other two blades headed his way.
Silex spots the bounding assassin and lofts a brow at the sudden tossing of his blade into the air. This momentary lapse of complete attention proves to be a folly of the human as little preparation is made for the now oncoming twins of steely peril. The first strikes the man in his left shoulder, the second narrowly avoid at hastily made steps, causing the dagger to ring a rocky "clang" as it strikes a nearby stone spike. Attention to detail is also forgotten as the terramancer brushes against a rising craggy spear, ripping into his own flesh, loosing a second flow of warm vitae to soak up within his already crimson cloths. Thankful in some ways for the rapid retreat, Silex notices the assassin landing in his former location, two weapons at hand, each deadly and able to end this battle in a single blow. The mage sprints, taking off in a mad dash, as best as he can with the injuries that now present themselves upon his body. The human weaves in and out of the uneven, rocky horror show, letting his staff tap upon the stones as they arise out of the ground. Surprisingly, the direction of each chosen earthen spear changes; no longer bobbing up and down, their barbed edges are sent hurtling towards one another, crashing and smashing into their like brethren before rebounding to go in a different direction, mimicking the scene of bumper cars in an amusement park. The intent is to obviously smash the assassin into dust, or tear more of his flesh asunder in this wicked, malicious ever changing maze. Silex, not wishing to be part of the mess finds safety near the wall of the arena, staff perpendicular to the ground, readied if the need arises to force an errant "bumper" back into the mix.
Jack smiled as the dagger made contact, forcing the mage to retreat yet again. In Jack's mind, it seemed much the same as a delicate game of cat-and-mouse. However, this mouse was proving most dangerous, and he quickly began to prove it yet again. The spikes pulled up began to collide and smash their way towards Jack. A slight whisper was made, a small curse of the man. It would appear that he would have to take the matter a little more seriously, and with a muscled leap, he bound of a nearby, still upright pillar. This allowed him to spring off of it, and propel himself to a new height as he would touch for a moment upon one of the approaching projectiles. Dangerous as it was, it seemed to have worked for him. Leaping and bounding over the wall of 'bumper cars', he thought himself safe, but the constant crashing and change of direction would cause more of a problem then he had thought. A sharp piece of earth would erect itself towards Jack, the tip piercing his right side, slashing deeply into the flesh, and releasing a spray and flow of his precious lifebood. This was a wound he did not care to ignore, nor could. He knew he would have to end it soon....else he might not have time to heal properly. Landing in a ducking roll, he would spring up, nothing but open ground between him and the mage. A smile, despite his wounds, would manage to come to face. His frame took a low position, his arms dragging behind him while his feet would slap the ground with a startling cadence. His speed, especially for a Human, was astonishing. Parting lips would spray forth a spill of archaic words, using what little magic was offered to him in the form of a simple enchantment. Both blades would begin to glow, the metal growing hot quickly. So much so that it would sting his hands, but he cared not. A dodge to the left, a dodge to the right, a leap and jump from atop the projectile--all things done as needed--his life preserved by his actions. A simple motion made, both blades in hand launched towards Silex. The point of his enchantments to all them to cut through any earth that might come between them and the blood of the mage.
Silex agonizes over the pain which courses through his body, the two main epicenters being the dagger in his shoulder and the gash in his leg. Pushing away the sting, the terramancer's chocolate gaze falls upon the approaching vision of the assassin. Astonished and amazed at his emergence from the madness, the enchanted blades cause further anxiety to the psyche of the mage. Continuing to hold his staff before his chest, secured in his right hand that wavers not, Silex watches on as the pair of flaming blades lurch toward his very being. Reacting with the astuteness of an aged eagle, the terramancer does the only thing possible in this situation: change his position. The earth beneath him gives out after a mad poem rising from the lips of the man. In the flash of an eye, the quicksand devours Silex, feasting upon his lower torso and rapidly changing where the man once stood. The flailed blazing brands pierce into the wall where he once stood, the heat of both scorching the top of the human's head as they radiate with vigorous intensity. Trapped in his own demise now, he can do little to escape, should Jack continue with this battle.
~Kill Post~ Jack would continue to bound forward, his steps slapping hard upon the ground beneath. His intent was clear, death to the man. His gaze was focused, the man now having trapt himself to his own demise. With another leap, he would propel himself skyward, clear over the the mans head. In honesty, it would probably seem as though he intended to simply kick him in the face, but his boot would do well to avoid that. Jack, after all, was not cruel by nature. Instead, he sought to grab hold of the two blades buried half into the wall where Silex had been standing moments before, his enchantments still active, and allowing him to pull them free easily enough. Pushing off the wall, his blades with him, he would land before the mage again. "I pray you see the truth and wrong in your ways. Farewell, brethren, and sweet dreams." With that said, each blade would be brought from their respective sides, and cut into the man's neck; Katana slightly higher then Scimitar so as to not clash. The effect was simple, a decapitation. Blood would spurt and spray, flinging off the two blades as well. It was as he foretold. A rain of blood.